


5 People Sam Winchester Should Have Dated

by vinniebatman



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Smallville, Supernatural, Wonder Woman (Comics)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 08:44:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinniebatman/pseuds/vinniebatman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Sam had met and dated someone else at Stanford, the night of the demon's return might have been vastly different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Broken Glass

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** : I hired a pack of ninjas to kidnap Joss and Kripke; they were threatened with hot poker torture, chainsaws, and an exorcism. I now own all. Thank you. *Doctor's Note: Patient exhibits delusions of grandeur and any claims of ownership of either Supernatural or Buffy the Vampire Slayer are pure fantasy. No harm is meant. Seriously, it's better than her throwing rocks at people.*  
> 

* * * * * * * * * * *  


Sam and Dean stood outside of the apartment building next to the Impala.

"You’ll call me if you find him?" Sam asked; Dean nodded. He didn't want to leave Dean alone, but he had a life here, with Dawn, and he couldn't give her up. "Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, all right," Dean agreed, knowing that it would probably never happen. Sam turned away from his brother and headed into the apartment.

"Sam!" Dean called out. Sam turned to his brother, who continued. "You know, we made a hell of a team back there."

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

The two bothers looked at each other, the silence of the night and things unsaid driving them apart.

_BOOM!_

Glass exploded outward from Sam's apartment as small tendrils of smoke drifted out.

Sam felt his heart stop in his chest. "God, no.... Dawn."

Dropping his bag, he ran up the stairs. Kicking in the door to his apartment, he coughed as thick black smoke and sulfur fumes billowed around him. His dream, it was happening.

"Dawn!" He yelled, frantically running into the bedroom.

"Sam!" Dean followed his brother into the burning apartment, quickly scanning the living room and kitchen for any sign of Sam's leggy, brunette girlfriend. The fire grew, orange flames slowly cutting off Sam's exit. In a split second, Dean recognized the danger Sam was too consumed with panic and fear to see.

"Sam!" he yelled, running forward and grabbing Sam's arm.

"Dawn!" Sam screamed, looking frantically at the ceiling.

Dropping his eyes to the bed, his heart broke; there, in the middle of the blood-spotted bed, was Dawn's silver cross necklace, the chain broken. "Dawn, no!"

Dean pulled forcefully on his brother's arm, dragging him from the apartment, sepherding his brother down the stairs to the parking lot. Moving to the Impala, Sam stared blankly at the asphalt as Dean looked him over for injuries.

"Sam?" Sam looked up and saw her. There stood Dawn, shivering and bleeding from a stomach wound, dressed in a short, white nightgown; Sam's favorite. Next to her stood a redheaded woman in a flannel nightgown.

"Dawnie?" Sam asked, his voice cracking. Rushing forward, he enveloped her in his arms. "God, are you okay? I saw the necklace, I thought...." Sam's voice broke.

Sirens cut through the night, approaching the site of the blaze. Suddenly, Dawn shoved him away and kicked against his shin with her bare foot.

"You jerk! What, you couldn't be bothered to tell me a demon was hunting you!" she yelled, her face red with anger.

"Whoa, wait: you knew this thing was demon?" Dean cut in. "How the hell did you get away?"

Dawn looked at the redhead, who nodded. "It came in and cut me, then used telekinesis to pin me to the ceiling. So I ripped off my necklace and summoned Willow."

Dean and Sam stiffened at the word "summoned."

"You summoned Willow, as in 'your sister's best friend who used to babysit you' Willow?" Sam asked, taking off his jacket and placing it on Dawn's shoulders.

"What are you?" Dean asked Willow, his voice low and dangerous.

The redhead smiled nervously. "A witch."

Dean pulled out his gun and aimed. Willow's eyes widened fearfully and she flicked her wrist, sending Dean's gun clattering to the ground. "Uh, don't shoot! I'm a good witch, I promise! Dawnie's necklace was a protection charm that she could use if she ever needed help! I made because she has a bad habit of getting kidnapped, usually on Tuesdays, so when she ripped it off it woke me up in Cleveland and I teleported here and I kinda... well, I didn't know what to do so I bound the demon into a pocket dimension to deal with later and got us out of there as fast as I could," she rambled, wringing her hands.

Dean's eyebrows raised; "A pocket dimension?" Dawn and Willow nodded.

"Damn," Dean muttered. "How did you end up in the middle of this?" he asked, turning to Dawn.

The shivering girl shrugged. "Ever heard of a vampire slayer?"  
 


	2. Fire and Ice

* * * * * * * * * * *  


The Impala roared through the streets of Palo Alto toward Sam's apartment. It was late, the city enveloped in the quiet hush of a Sunday night.

"So what kind of law you wanna go into? Corporate?" Dean asked, smirking.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, I want to spend hours going over contracts to make rich people richer. Nah, I want to be a prosecutor, put the bad guys away. Not exactly demon hunting, but it still needs to be done."

Dean smirked. "So, Sammy, about your boyfriend...."

Sam raised an eyebrow and glared. "Don't say anything, Dean."

Dean shot his brother an innocent look.

"I wasn't going to say anything! Just that he's, you know, really pretty."

"Shut up, Dean," Sam growled as his brother laughed.

They fell silent and Sam stared out the window.

"Dean, are you... okay with this?" he asked softly.

"Sam, can't say I wasn't surprised that you're chasing after men.  Can't say I understand it, either.  But you were smiling like a little school girl around him.  You're happy, guess that's all-."

As Dean pulled into the apartment complex's parking lot, he stopped short and tensed.

"What's wrong, Dean?"

Dean jerked his chin toward the parking lot.  "Asphalt's covered in glass," he murmured, carefully steering his baby around the glass toward a parking space.

Once parked, they quickly got out of the car. Dean looked at the ground, trying to locate the source.

"No," Sam whispered.

Dean's head snapped toward his little brother, and his heart nearly stopped at the heartbreak and loss on Sammy's face.  Following his brother's gaze, he saw the broken window of Sam's apartment.  The younger Winchester moved toward the building.

"Sammy, wait!" Dean whispered harshly, moving forward to grab Sam's arm.  "It's quiet right now, but you can't help him if you just go running in there."

Pulling Sam toward the Impala's trunk, Dean quickly opened it and pulled out two shotguns.  He handed one to his brother. "Consecrated silver rounds."

Sam nodded and the two brothers went inside, silently moving up the stairs.  They paused at the apartment door and listened.  They could hear movement inside. Sam moved to the door and grabbed the doorknob, slowly twisting it; it was unlocked.  He turned toward Dean, who nodded.  Sam quietly opened the door and the two brother's rushed in, guns drawn.  Papers were strewn about, knick knacks and pictures scattered.  They could hear two voices in the bedroom, one male, one female.

Dean frowned.  _Who?_ he mouthed.

Sam mouthed back _Friend._

They listened.

"Okay, so you got out of shower, and this guy with yellow eyes shows up and pins you to the ceiling using telekinesis?" came the doubtful voice of the female. "Okay, we've seen some weird stuff, but this is just...."

"Insane.  Then I could feel something, like he was tugging on my guts or something.  The he started to look really confused, like he was trying to do something."

Sam and Dean looked at each other, frowning.  They walked into the bedroom, then stopped short, stunned.  Clark sat on the bed in red pajama bottoms and nothing else, his blue eyes wide with shock.  A cute blond girl was sitting next to him, dressed in pajamas and a jacket, a cell phone and car keys in her hands.  And near the doorway stood a wispy black figure with yellow eyes, its form enveloped in a thick, misshapen block of ice.  Clark and the girl jumped to their feet.

"What the hell?" Sam muttered, staring at the frozen figure.

"Holy shit it's the demon," Dean said, his eyes wide.

The puzzle pieces clicked inside Sam's mind.

"He was here because of me," he said.  "He came here to kill you," he whispered, looking at Clark.  Sam rushed forward and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, burying his face in Clark's neck.  Stepping back, he studied Clark's torso.

"But you're okay.  He tried to cut, but he didn't, you're okay," Sam said, puzzled as he ran his hand over Clark's stomach.

"Okay, sorry to interrupt the happy reunion, but what you mean 'demon?'" the blond yelled.

Dean turned to face her and smiled.

"Hi, Dean Winchester," he said.  The girl rolled her eyes.

"Chloe Sullivan.  And what do you mean 'demon?'" Clark pulled away from Sam.

"How do you know what that thing is?" Clark asked his boyfriend.

"I've got a better question: how the hell did you freeze it?" Dean asked.

Chloe looked between the three men, each of whom wore confused and guarded expressions.

"Oh for God's sake! Okay, how about we all just lay our cards on the table!  Dean, you said this was a demon: you mean a real hellfire and brimstone demon?" she asked.

Dean let his eyes travel over the blond.  She was smart, cute, and feisty as hell. "Yeah, it's a real demon.  Demons, monsters and ghosts are real.  This son of a bitch killed our Mom."

"Okay, so demons are real. Strange and scary, but not that unbelievable," she said.  She turned toward Clark.  "You should tell them."

The tall young man paled.  "I can't, what, I mean what if they don't believe me," he whispered, staring at Sam nervously.

Rolling her eyes, Chloe walked over to the corner of the room and picked up a baseball bat that was propped in the corner.

"Either of you happen to have a knife?" she asked.  Frowning, Dean pulled a knife out from under his jacket.  He handed it to the Chloe handle first.  She walked up to Clark and quickly slashed the knife at his chest. 

"Don't!" Sam yelled, rushing forward to grab Chloe's arm. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Uh, Sammy, take a look at your boy toy."  Sam turned and saw Clark's unmarked body.  He dropped Chloe's arm.

"But I thought...."

"I did try to cut him, but...." Chloe trailed off, holding up the knife.  Its blade was slightly bent, the sharpened edge suddenly flat.

"My knife!" Dean yelled.

"Sorry, Dean," she said, handing it back to him.  She handed the bat to Clark.  "Here you go, Clark. Break it."

Clark smiled sheepishly at his boyfriend before easily snapping the bat in half.

"Oh my God," Sam murmured.

"Damn," Dean muttered in awe.  "Just don't break anything important on my brother, okay?"

Clark blushed.

"Okay, so Clark isn't human, he's an alien," Chloe declared.

Dean and Sam stared, then Dean smirked.

"Had to go to another planet just to get laid, eh Sammy?"

Clark blushed again.

"Actually, my home planet was destroyed, so my parents sent to Earth to be raised," he said.

"Yeah, you know that meteor shower that happened in the '80s?" Chloe asked.  "That was cover for Clark's ship. Being on Earth gives him abilities different from a normal human.  He has immense strength, speed, heat vision, X-ray vision, super-hearing and super-breath.  The super-breath is a new one.  Oh, and he's pretty much invulnerable."

Dean snorted.  "Super-breath?" he asked, grinning widely.  "You are one lucky bastard, Sammy."

"Yeah, my breath is really strong.  It can move really heavy objects, or even freeze things," Clark explained, blushing at Dean's insinuations.  Sam was simply staring at his boyfriend in surprise.  Clark faced his boyfriend, nervous.  "Are you okay, Sam?"

Sam shook his head, then smiled.  "Damn, I thought I had the corner on strange families.  This is incredible.  Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, cupping Clark's face.

"Yeah, I'm fine Sam."

"So what exactly happened Ole Yeller here?" Dean asked.

"He pinned me to the ceiling and tried to cut me, I guess.  It got confused, then flames started to spring up.  I couldn't break free from his hold, so I blew the flames out and kind of knocked it back.  I guess that broke its concentration, so it dropped me and I got the chance to freeze him."

"So what do we do with it now?" Chloe asked, looking at the demon.

Dean smirked as he pulled out his cell phone.  The phone clicked as he took a picture with his camera.

"Dad is gonna love this." 


	3. Trembling Before God...esses

* * * * * * * * * *  


Dean steered his baby through the streets of Palo Alto while he lazily rested his arm along the back of the seat.  They'd been riding in silence since San Jose; the closer they got to Sam's apartment, the greater the tension in the car.

Finally, Dean cleared his throat, then spoke.  "So... you hear about that new superhero chick in San Francisco?"

Sam turned and stared at his brother, incredulous.  "What, you mean the masked lady that seems to be a lot like Superman and flies around the West Coast, fighting crime?  Never heard of her," he smirked.

"Bitch," Dean grumbled.  "I was just trying to start a conversation.  What do they call her, anyways?  Wonderbra?"

"Nah, I'm pretty sure Wonderbra is copyrighted," Sam pointed out, grimacing as the words left his mouth.  "And this conversation just got weird."

"It did, but it's your fault.  So, new topic," Dean said.  "How about you tell me how in the hell you wound up with an Amazonian hottie for a girlfriend?  I mean, it's gotta be hard being the damsel in distress in the relationship," he smirked.

"Yeah right," Sam snorted.  "You're just pissed off because she pulled us apart and busted your lip, bloodied your nose, gave you a black eye and jacked you up against the wall in five seconds flat."

"Well, it's not my fault your girlfriend is freakishly strong," Dean blustered.

"She's not freakishly strong," Sam protested, laughing.

"Dude, even with all the training Dad put us through, she makes you seem like a girl.  Which isn't that hard, but still," Dean teased. "She's strong, and she's got some skills when it comes to fighting."

"She doesn't talk about her mom a lot, but I guess she made her study self defense before she went to college," Sam said with a shrug.

Dean turned into the building's parking lot and stopped his car.  The two brother's got out of the car, their good humor dissipating.

Sam and Dean stood outside of the apartment building next to the Impala, silent.

"You’ll call me if you find him?" Sam asked; Dean nodded.  "Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, all right," Dean agreed, knowing that it would probably never happen.  Sam turned away from his brother and headed into the apartment.

"Sam!" Dean called out.  Sam turned to his brother, who continued.  "You know, we made a hell of a team back there."

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

The two bothers looked at each other, the silence of the night and things unsaid driving them apart.  With one last look at Dean, Sam turned away.

All of a sudden, he heard a deep rumble.  The ground seemed to roll beneath him before he realized that it wasn't an earthquake; it was a vibration, the waves of an inaudible sound rattling the doors and the windows of the building, and shaking his body.  Sam froze, an icy fear clenching his heart; it was an odd occurrence and in hunting, odd occurrences weren't just coincidences.

He flashed back to his dream.  Even though his dreams had been about blood and fire, not vibrations, he still thought of the dream.  He could still see her, pinned to the ceiling, her hair fanned out around her face, wreathed in flames as her mouth opened in a wordless cry for help.

Irrational fear clenched his gut; Sam bolted up the stairs, Dean on his heels.  When he reached his apartment, he threw the door open.  The apartment was empty; lights were on, papers and pictures scattered on the floor, but it was silent.

"Di? Diana?" he called.

Dean stood behind, frowning as he reached for his gun.

"You smell that?" Dean whispered.

"Yeah," Sam nodded.  "Sulphur."

They moved toward the bedroom, tensed.  Sam opened the door and froze.

"Holy shit," he whispered as his stomach tightened and lurched, trying to force itself up into Sam's throat.

Dean looked over Sam's shoulder, his face a matching mask of shock.

The demon stood before them, writhing and raging, pinned against the wall by an unseen force.  Its lips moved as though speaking, but its voice could not be heard.  Diana sat on the bed, her hair in disarray, nightgown torn to reveal a long, thin bruise on her abdomen.  She was alive, the knowledge relaxing his stomach.  Sam rushed to kneel before her and pulled her into his arms.  Between the adrenaline, fear, and relief coursing through him, his hands shook as he ran them up and down her back.

"God baby, I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry, I should have warned you," he murmured, his face buried in her hair as he blinked back tears.

Gently, Diana pushed him away.  Her blue eyes searched his face as she frowned.

"You knew that this would happen?"

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, leaning forward to rest his forehead on her knees.  "That thing, it killed my Mom. I thought.... I've been having dreams, seeing you die the same way she did.  I thought it was just a dream, a messed up dream about her death and you.  I'm so sorry, I didn't know it would happen."

Diana reached out and cupped his jaw.  "So you didn't know it would happen?"

"Okay, obviously this is an important conversation, but hell happened to the demon?" Dean yelled.

Diana turned to him and pierced him with a stern gaze. The resolve in her eyes faltered as her mouth worked, trying to find an explanation.

"Look, I get that you're afraid we won't believe you," Sam conceded, clasping her hands in his.  "But we're hunters, we've been hunting dark things almost my entire life.  We'll believe you."

"You should tell them," a voice said from behind Dean.

Dean turned and took in the sight of one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen.  Tall and curvaceous with a mass of copper hair, the woman was draped in silk.

Diana rose from the bed and approached her, bowing sightly and inclining her head in a sign of respect.  Sam followed, his hand on the small of her back, afraid that she'd somehow disappear.  The woman reached out and placed two fingers under Diana's chin and raised her head.

"He loves you dearly.  He is strong enough to know, they both are," she declared with certainty.

Diana nodded, nervousness etched in the lines on her face as she glanced back at Sam.

"They may well be strong enough, but I believe the brothers will require proof," a new voice said.  The group turned toward the demon and found the source of the voice and the demon's entrapment.  It was another woman.  She had long, black hair held back by a stylized crown that covered part of her head like a helmet.  She also wore a flowing gown, but hers was shorter, her torso covered with a silver breast plate.  She was using both arms to easily pin the demon to the wall.  The demon bucked against her, but she merely rolled her eyes, her hold never faltering.

"Sammy?" Dean asked.

"Yeah?"

"Does your building have a history of hot women popping out thin air?" Dean asked, partially afraid and partially aroused by the strange women.

"Uh, not that I know of, man."  Sighing, Sam moved away and dropped heavily onto the bed.  "Jesus, this is one fucked up day."

Diana smiled softly before moving over to the heavy antique wardrobe against the far wall.  Sam and Dean watched, then sputtered as Diana effortlessly pushed the wardrobe several feet with one hand, revealing a hidden compartment.

"Jesus Christ, she really is freakishly strong," Dean proclaimed.

The copper haired woman struck with the speed of a snake, hitting Dean in the back of his head.

"What the hell?" he yelled, inching away from her.

The woman said nothing, instead choosing to watch Diana.  The dark haired young woman opened the compartment and withdrew a bag.  She sat down on the bed and handed it to Sam.

"What is it, Di?" he whispered with a frown.

She smiled timidly.

"Open it," she answered.

Sam pulled open the ties and removed a ball of fabric.  He set it on his lap and unrolled it, revealing two wide, silver bracelets, a golden crown, and a golden mask that covered someone's upper face.  Stunned, Sam reached into the bag and removed a golden coil of rope.  The pieces clicked together.

"Holy shit, you... you're her. You're Wonder Woman," he stammered.

Diana smiled weakly and nodded.  "Yes, I am."

Silence fell over the room until Dean finally spoke.

"Way to go Sammy!  Knocking boots with a superhero!"

The copper haired woman once again moved forward and slapped the back of Dean's head.

"Be silent!" she hissed.

"Hey, would you stop doing that!  If you hit me every time I say something stupid, you're gonna break me," he pointed out.

The dark haired woman who held the demon against the wall merely sighed and rolled here eyes again.

"So, what, are you an alien or something, like Superman?" Sam asked.

"No, I'm not," Diana said.  Taking a deep breath, she continued.  "I am Diana, daughter of Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons.  I am the Princess of and emissary for Themyscira."

"You're an Amazon?" Dean laughed, amused that his earlier joke about her was actually true.

Before the copper haired woman could strike again, Dean leapt away from her, smirking.

"Yes, I was born and raised on Themyscira.  When I was born, I was blessed by Aphrodite, Athena, Demeter, Hestia, Artemis, and Hermes.  That is how I received my abilities," Diana explained.

"Wait, you mean actual Goddesses, as in Mount Olympus?" Sam asked.  "That's incredible."

"Wow, that's actually pretty damn cool.  But, still, what happened to yellow eyes over there?" Dean asked, quickly glancing behind himself in fear of being struck yet again.

Diana looked down at her hands before answering, a tremor of fear running through her again.

"When the demon appeared, I was touched by pure evil for the first time.  It... I could feel the darkness, its intent.  I'd never felt anything like it before.  But since I'd been blessed by the Gods, I am somewhat connected to them.  Athena felt the demon's presence and came to my aide," Diana explained.  Dean blinked, then turned to the woman who held the demon against the wall.

"You're Athena?" Dean asked.  He turned to look at the woman who'd repeatedly struck him.  "So who are you?"

"I am Aphrodite."

"Ah shit, just my luck; I piss of a Goddess and it's the Goddess of Love," he muttered, running his hand through his hair.  "So, any ideas on how do we kill this thing?"

Aphrodite and Athena glanced at each other.

"We do not know," Athena answered.

"They are hunters," Aphrodite pointed out.  "Perhaps Artemis would assist."

Athena nodded.  "Send for her.  I tire of holding this thing; it makes me feel soiled," Athena explained, curling her lip in disgust.

A third woman suddenly appeared in the room.  Like Athena, she had long, dark hair.  However, Artemis had her's pulled back, and wore a short, functional dress and boots, and carried a bow and a quiver of arrows.

"Yes?" she asked, looking expectantly at humans.

"My Lady, this thing attacked me," Diana explained, gesturing to the demon held by Athena.

"The two young men are hunters," Athena interrupted.  "They hunt dark creatures such as this demon, which killed their mother and attempted to kill Diana.  We felt that you would be the most appropriate to deal with this matter."

Artemis narrowed her eyes as she studied the demon.  Reaching out, she drew her finger though the air.  A light appeared where her finger moved, revealing a tear in the fabric of existence.  Artemis reached into the tear and pulled out a sword.

"This will kill it," she declared, holding it out to the Winchester brothers.

Sam stepped forward, his head bowed in deference.

"Your, uh, Holiness," Sam started, wincing.  "I can't thank you enough, but it isn't our place to kill it.  Our Father has hunted it for over twenty years.  If anyone should be allowed to kill it, it should be him."

"Very well," Artemis agreed after studying them.  She looked at Aphrodite and understanding passed between them.  The Goddess of love disappeared, then reappeared only seconds later, her hand on the shoulder of a stunned John Winchester.

John reached for his gun, wildly eying the room and his sons before fixing his gaze on the demon.

"What the hell is going on boys?" he barked.

"Uh, well-," Sam started.

"Sam's dating an Amazonian Princess who was blessed by a bunch of Greek goddesses.  The demon came to kill her, so Athena, that's the one that's got the demon pinned, showed up and kicked it's ass.  Then Aphrodite and Artemis showed up and offered us a sword to kill it, but Sammy figured it was your place to kill it," Dean quickly explained.

John blinked, then looked from the demon, to Artemis, then to Aphrodite, and then to Dean, Sam and Diana, before returning his gaze to the demon and Athena.

"Okay," he said with a chuckle.  Leave it to his sons to fall in with a bunch of Goddesses.  Moving forward, he took the sword from Artemis as he bowed his head.  It never hurt to show respect.  "So what will it do? Just remove him from earth, trap him in hell?"

"No.  It will destroy him completely, wipe him from existence," Artemis explained.

The demon stilled, its eyes widening in fear.  In all its millennia, it had never even considered an eventuality such as this.  He'd hidden his actions from everyone in the heavens and hell.  All of its planning and preparation was for naught.

Athena moved away from the wall, pulling the demon with her.  She reached out with one hand, clasping Artemis' hand in hers, who joined her free hand with Aphrodite.  Athena then released the demon, the combined power of the three Goddesses holding the demon immobile.

John Winchester took a few practice swings; he'd learned how to use one over the years, but it had been a while since he'd used anything but a machete.  Taking a deep breath, he moved forward. Part of him couldn't believe that this could end so easily.  But if the sword could actually do what the Goddess promised it would, he'd do whatever she asked.  For Mary.  Shaking off his lingering doubts, John swung with all his might.  The sword whistled as the blade cut through the air, the weapon lighter than it should have been.  It cut cleanly, cleaving the demon's head from it's body.  Electricity crackled and a loud roar sounded.  The room shook as a white tear appeared in the air, dragging the demon through it.  The light and noise seemed to go on forever.  Then it closed, the sound and vibrations ending as though someone had shut off a radio.

"It's gone," John said roughly.  All of those years, and now, it was gone.  He blinked his eyes rapidly; his sons, they were safe.  It was gone.  Turning back to Artemis, he held the blade out to her.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick from the relief and joy that nearly brought him to his knees in tears.

Dean and Sam were safe, all of the children were safe.  The world was safe.

"No; you must keep it.  There are other creatures that followed that one that may attempt to hurt you.  The blade will always strike true, and destroy the darkest of creatures.  Just don't use it on any spirits," Artemis said, a thin smile on her lips.

John frowned, but Athena spoke before he could.

"When you burn the remains of a spirit, they are released from the earth and go where they were meant to before their death.  Many are confused when they commit terrible acts," she explained.  "They, unlike a demon, deserve their final rest."

John clenched his fist around the hilt and nodded his head.

"Thank you," he said, his voice stronger.  "I can't... I don't have the words to say it strong enough."

The three Goddesses merely smiled at him, and a warmth and calm that John hadn't known in decades blossomed in his chest.  They then turned and inclined their heads toward Diana, who responded in kind.  The three Goddesses disappeared, the room suddenly empty, but filled with a sense of peace.

John shook his head and smiled at the tender way Sam wrapped an arm around his girlfriend.

"So, you're an Amazon?" he said, smiling at her.  She smiled nervously.

"Yes, I am Diana Prince," she said, extending her hand.  John shook it.

"Yeah, she's also Wonder Woman," Dean added. 

John's eyes widened.

"You're - wow, guess the demon really screwed up," John chuckled, a true smile gracing his lips.

Suddenly, Dean burst out in laughter.

Sam, Diana, and John looked at him, perplexed.

"Diana," Dean sputtered between laughs.  "She's a Princess, Princess Diana.  Sammy's dating Princess Di!"

The other three stared at Dean while his laughter faded to the occasional chuckle and snort.  He looked at them and shrugged.  "I thought it was funny."

* * * * * * * * * *

 **A/N** : I used the 1987 version of the Wonder Woman back story as a basis for this fic.  I thought that perhaps instead of just diving into the world, she instead could have started living among other and learning about them, while hiding her identity.  It feels weird to write her being so sheepish, but Diana had no experience with men before leaving the island, and thus was a fairly naive woman when it came to matters of heart.  Kick ass, but naive.  Information can be found a the address below.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wonder_woman#1987_reboot  
 


	4. I Put a Spell on You

* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Dean turned into the building's parking lot and stopped his car. The two brother's got out of the car, their good humor dissipating.

Sam and Dean stood outside of the apartment building next to the Impala, silent.

"You’ll call me if you find him?" Sam asked; Dean nodded. "Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, all right," Dean agreed.

Sam turned away from his brother and headed into the apartment.

"Sam!" Dean called out. Sam turned to his brother, who continued. "You know, we made a hell of a team back there."

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

The two bothers looked at each other, the silence of the night and things unsaid driving them apart. With one last look at Dean, Sam turned away and went inside.

The weekend had been jarring for him, a return to the life he'd tried to ignore for almost four years. As he entered the apartment, he could hear the water running in the shower. A note lay on the table, notifying him that there was food in the oven. Smiling, he walked over the oven and pulled out a plate. Grabbing a carrot off the dish, he popped it into his mouth before picking up his bag again and heading into the bedroom. Dropping his bag at the foot of the bed, he stared at blankets. The bed looked far too inviting after a weekend trapped in a car and sleeping on crappy motel beds. He fell onto the bed with a contented sigh, shutting his eyes as the sounds of his normal life drifted over him.

A drop of liquid fell on his forehead. Sam's brow furrowed, but didn't open his eyes until a second drop fell. He swiped at the drops with his hand, then studied his fingers. His stomach clenched as he recognized the copper scent and sticky consistency of blood. Terror gripped him as he looked up to see his girlfriend pinned to the ceiling, blood dripping from a deep cut in her stomach. Flames burst to life, circling her body and growing closer

"No!" Sam screamed his hands reaching toward her.

She smiled down at him weakly and Sam could only watch in horror as she clasped her necklace with one hand, and reached out to him with the other.

Dean kicked open the door into the burning apartment, quickly scanning the living room and kitchen for any sign of Sam, before finding him the in the bedroom, looking up at his girlfriend's body.

"Sam!" he yelled. Sam didn't look back at him, his eyes glued to the form trapped against the ceiling.

The fire grew, orange flames slowly cutting off Sam's exit. In a split second, Dean recognized the danger Sam was too consumed with panic and fear to see.

"Sam!" he yelled, running forward and grabbing Sam's arm. Sam looked at him before looking back. He couldn't see her anymore, flames covering the ceiling.

"'Mione!" Sam screamed, looking frantically at the ceiling.

Dean pulled forcefully on his brother's arm, dragging him from the apartment. Dean quickly shepherded his brother down the stairs to the parking lot. Moving to the Impala, Sam stared blankly at the asphalt as Dean looking him over for injuries.

"She's gone," Sam whispered dully.

They fell silent as sirens drew closer and more of the building was enveloped in flames.

Dean shook his head before running a hand through his hair. He turned and looked around at the crowd of people who slowly gathered. His eyes were drawn to the figures of two men in nightgowns.

"Stay here Sammy, I'll be back in a minute," he muttered, jogging toward the men.

* * * * * * * * * *

The combined group of family and friends, primarily compose of redheads, sat in the waiting room, nervous. But it was the guy wearing glasses that caught Dean's eyes. He quickly strode toward him, Dean's presence soon drawing the attention of most of the group.

"Hey, glasses!" he called out, his voice softer than normal since they were in a hospital.

The man in glasses frowned at Dean. "Yes?"

"You Gary?"

"Well, actually, it's Harry," he corrected, confused.

Dean shrugged. "Whatever, man."

Dean turned and jogged back down the hall. When he reached the end, he let out a piercing whistle before yelling out: "Yo, Sammy! Found 'em!"

The group watched as Sam joined Dean and the two made their way toward the seating area.

Harry frowned. "I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

Dean flashed him a wide grin. "No, but I've seen your picture." He paused before turning to face his brother. "Dude, you're gonna need some new pictures; the other ones are probably toast."

Sam nodded but didn't say anything. Everyone sat in an awkward silence for several minutes.

"I'm sorry, but what are you doing here?" a balding man asked.

Dean smirked. "Waiting. And you?"

"I'm sorry, but should you be here?" the man pressed.

"Should you?" Dean shot back.

"Well, I've known Hermione for many years...."

"Who are you?" a stocky red-head asked.

"I'm Dean, and this is my brother Sammy. He's Hermy's boy-toy," Dean answered. "And you?"

"Ron, I went to school with her."

Soon, the bald man cleared his throat pointedly. Ron's eyes widened. "Oh, sorry, these are my parents, Arthur and Molly, my brother Percy, my friend Harry, my sister Ginny, and my brothers George and Fred - they're twins," Ron said, pointing out the individuals as he spoke.

Dean's smile widened as he began to stare blankly at the wall behind Harry's head.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked.

"Oh yeah, it's that something he said brought back some good memories."

"What did I say?" Ron asked.

Dean's grin widened. "Twins. God, those chicks were hot."

"Really?" George asked, smiling.

"Don't suppose you'd care-," Fred started.

"To share the details," George finished.

"Boys!" Molly snapped.

The twins fell silent, grinning as Dean silently mouthed "later."

"Dean, will you please just shut up," Sam huffed.

"C'mon, I'm just trying to keep things relaxed, so stop being a bitch," Dean teased.

"I am not being a bitch!" Sam huffed. "I'm just - she was hurt and I'm concerned."

"Dude, I get that you love her, but take two seconds and untwist your panties. Jesus."

"Here's an idea, why don't you grow the hell up!"

"Sure, right after you grow a sense of humor."

"I have a sense of humor," Sam ground out.

"Uh, no you don't."

"Yes, I do!"

"Both of you be quiet!" Molly snapped. The brothers froze, then turned to face her.

Almost in tandem, they muttered: "Yes, Ma'am."

"Bitch," Dean muttered under his breath.

"Stop be such a jerk, jerk," Sam muttered back, kicking Dean's ankle. "I have other thinks to think about."

"I know, and that's why I'm distracting you," Dean said, kicking back.

"Oh for the love of- am I going to have to separate you two?" Molly asked.

A few moments later, the arrival of two others drew the group's attention. Sam saw them and stood up, stepping forward.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger, hi," he said, smiling weakly.

The Grangers stopped short, puzzled.

"Sam, what are you doing here? How did you-?"

A loud crash cut off the rest of Mrs. Granger's question.

"No, I have to go!"

The group watched as Hermione stumbled out of the hospital room, clutching her abdomen with one hand while bracing herself against the wall with the other. A mediwitch followed her out.

"Miss Granger, please, you need to rest."

"No, I need to find Sam!"

Any confusion or shock on Sam's part wore off as his protective instincts kicked in. Rushing forward, he gently grabbed Hermione's elbow and led her back into her room. Hermione followed, quietly staring up at her boyfriend with her mouth agape. As Hermione lay down, the rest of the group followed, crowding in the small room. Once she was in bed, covered and comfortable, Sam sat beside her, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers.

"You're okay," he whispered. "You're okay."

"Hermione, darling, what's going on?"

Hermione looked up at her father. "I don't know. Sam, what are you doing here?"

"I don't know, Dean knew some guys at the scene, they were cops or something, and they sent us here."

Suddenly, the attention of the entire group turned toward Dean.

Dean grinned.

"Yeah, they're Auroras, wizard cops. A couple years back, Dad and I were hunting a some werewolf gone crazy, but so were these two witches. Anyways, we got there just as they were waving their wands around. They started freaking out, talking about wiping our memory, at which point I said I'd kill 'em and then salt and burn their remains if they pointed their sticks at me. Which was apparently the right thing to say because there's some provision in the American laws about hunters being exempt from the regular rules or something. I dunno," he explained, finishing with a relaxed shrug. "Anyways, there were two guys in nightgowns at the building, and guys in nightgowns aren't exactly common in America, not even in the Bay Area."

"But what happened to you, Hermione?" Percy asked.

"I don't know. I'd just gotten out of the shower and this man was just standing there, grinning. I couldn't get to my wand fast enough, and then he started levitating me toward the ceiling. He started to cut me open, and then... his eyes, they flashed yellow," she explained in a whisper. "Then Sam came in, so the man raised his finger to his lips to shush me, and then he turned the shower on, which struck me as odd. Sam laid down on the bed and then I started bleeding. It fell on him, and that was when he saw me. He looked so terrified. Then the fire started, and Sam...," she trailed off, crying softly.

"That was when Hermione activated her port key, which took her to our home," Mr. Weasley finished. "We immediately brought her here."

Dean and Sam looked at each other. Sam stood and moved away from Hermione, his shoulder's hunched.

"It's my fault," he muttered. "It's because of me."

"Don't say that Sammy; it's his fault, not yours," Dean said.

"How could it be your fault?" Harry asked.

Dean and Sam looked at each other for several seconds.

"It's up to you, Sam," Dean said.

Sam roughly ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "It was a demon. When I was a baby, it killed my Mom, the same way it tried to kill you. I should have warned you."

"You couldn't have known what would happen, Sam," Dean said.

"No, I did know! I... saw it in my dreams. But I thought it was just a dream."

"You dreamt it?" Molly asked.

Sam dragged his hands down his face. "Yeah, I saw it happen."

"Have you ever had prophetic dreams before?" Hemione asked.

"No."

Harry spoke next. "Is is possible the demon marked you somehow?"

Sam frowned. "Uh, I dunno; maybe. I mean, the demon goes after two people I care about? But it's been over twenty years."

"Has the demon been active all this time?" she asked, a frown marring her brow as she considered the problem.

"Our Dad's been hunting the demon since our Mom died, but it's been quiet for a long time," Dean added.

"So maybe the demon marked you somehow, and once the demon became active again, it triggered whatever ability you may have," Hermione concluded.

The group fell silent, considering the information.

"We should go, Sammy," Dean said.

Sam looked at Hermione, his eyes filled with longing and regret as he nodded.

"Wait, Sam, where are you going?" Hermione asked, reaching for him.

"Away. He tried to kill you, I can't let you get hurt."

"Sam, he won't be able to hurt me-."

"No, I won't let him hurt you, I can't lose you," Sam said roughly. "If he's going after people I care about, I need to leave."

"Now listen here," Mr. Weasley said, stepping forward. "We may not know about phellytones or teevees or V.D. players, but we know about monsters, including demons."

"Yeah, there's a reason that not a single witch or wizard has been possessed in over 500 years," Ginny added.

"Really?" Dean asked. "That's kind of awesome."

"But the demon, it wants me," Sam said.

"No offense, but that's not the scariest thing we've faced," Harry said. "I mean, yes, it is a demon. But we dealt with the most evil wizard in recent times, perhaps all time. He killed my parents when I was a baby and tried to kill me. It didn't work and I ended up connected to him and could sometimes tell what happened to him, and he could even get into my mind from time to time. But his followers in the hundreds, and they were everywhere, torturing and killing people. Compared to hundreds of psychotic and magically proficient wizards and witches, one demon doesn't sound that scary," Harry said, shrugging.

"We can help, Sam," Hermione said.

"Yes, I have contacts at the Ministry of Magic who can help us get some information. It's possible there may have even been a prophecy, which we would have," Arthur offered.

"Yeah, and I'm an Auror. I'm pretty sure we've got a department dealing only with demonic activities," Harry odded.

Sam was quiet for a minute. "We need to get a hold of my Dad. He knows just about everything about the demon," he finally said.

"So we've got a plan?" Dean asked. "Excellent. Now, do I still get to use a gun?"

"You have a gun?" Fred asked.

George grinned. "Can we see it?"

"Maybe; what do you have to barter with?" Dean countered.

Fred and George grinned wider, then spoke as one.

"Our very own joke shop."

Dean grinned, his smile matching that of the twins. "Boys, I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."  



	5. Ice Cold

* * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Impala roared through the streets of Palo Alto, Sam's apartment only two blocks away. It was late and the city was enveloped in the quiet hush of a Sunday night.

"So Sam; I got a question about your boy," Dean said, smirking.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Just don't, Dean, okay?"

Dean shot his brother an innocent look as they stopped at an intersection.

"What? I wasn't going to ask anything weird. I mean, you're my bother; I don't wanna know about your kinky sex games."

"Shut up, Dean," Sam growled.

Dean laughed and shook his head.

"Really, no sex questions. I just want to know where your boy toy learned to fight all 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Boyfriend' style," he said, pulling the Impala into the parking lot of the building. Dean turned off the car.

"Connor said he studied martial arts when he was younger, that's all," Sam said.

"Really? Because those were some killer moves. You sure he's not a hunter?"

Sam shook his head, then got out of the car, pulling his bag from the back seat. "I'm pretty sure. I mean, one of his oldest friends lives next door, and she's definitely not hunter material," Sam explained.

"The skinny babe that came in after Connor got all ninja on my ass?"

"Yeah, that's her. She's a physicist."

"Ooh, brainy and hot; nice," Dean said, smiling lecherously. "Brainy chicks are always the kinky ones."

Sam winced. "Stop it, man, I don't want to think of Fred like that."

"Fred?"

"Yeah, it's short for Winifred."

"Huh." He grinned. "Bet I could get her number."

Sam rolled his eyes and Dean grinned, before falling silent. The quiet stretched out until Sam finally cleared his throat. "You’ll call me if you find him?"

Dean nodded.

"Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, all right."

Sam turned away from his brother and headed toward the building's entrance.

"Hey, Sammy!" Dean called out. Sam turned to his brother, who continued. "You know, we made a hell of a team back there."

"Yeah, we did." Sam nodded, and the two bothers looked at each other, the silence of the night and things unsaid driving them apart. The silence that was suddenly broken by a loud shattering of glass. Dean and Sam looked up.

From the broken window of Sam's apartment, two bodies fell amid a shining rain of glass. They landed on the ground, hard, one of them immediately rolling to his feet. Standing on the ground in a fighting stance, clad only in pajama bottoms and carrying a large sword, was Connor.

Sam's eyes bugged out.

"Connor?" he squeaked.

"Holy shit, that had to hurt," Dean muttered, stunned, his hand resting on the butt of his gun.

The other man rose to his feet, a knife protruding from his shoulder. He turned and grinned at Sam and Dean, eyes flashing yellow.

"Fuck, it's him!" Dean cursed, pulling his gun out.

"Well, well, well; looks like young Sam's squeeze is a little more than human," the demon rasped, grinning.

He looked down at his shoulder and tugged on the knife. It didn't move. He looked back up at Connor, glaring.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't get a chance to mention this, but that knife isn't going anywhere and neither are you. It's like a supernatural nail," Connor explained. "You're trapped in that body."

The demon frowned before tugging on it again.

"It's not coming out," Connor said. "I may not know how to kill your kind, but you aren't the first possessive creature I've had to keep in place."

Connor moved forward, expertly twirling and swinging the massive sword with ease.

"See Sammy, I told you he's a hunter," Dean whispered victoriously. He then yelped when Sam stomped on his foot.

"Now really isn't the time, Dean!"

"You think I'm worried?" the demon asked, a slow, easy grin spreading across his face. "You have no notion of my strength or what I'm capable of, hunter."

Connor rolled his eyes. "One: I'm not a hunter. And two: I'm not the one you should be afraid of."

"Then enlighten me, little boy . . . what meat sack hunter's supposed to scare me?" The demon scoffed, its confidence back, his smile growing.

The building's front door slammed open and a thin brunette with a cold, dead gaze strode out purposefully. The door behind her stuck the wall with immense force, cracking the wall behind it before breaking and falling from its hinges.

"Her," Connor smirked and with a careless air, raised his sword and rested it on his shoulder. "I may not know how to kill you, but she will."

"Fred?" Sam asked, his eyes wide. He blinked. "He should fear Fred," he repeated, his voice higher. "He should fear Fred?!"

"Dude, she wasn't that scary looking two days ago," Dean muttered.

"Well, she doesn't usually break down doors, either," Sam replied with a hysteria-tinged chuckle.

The demon laughed. "Her? I should fear her?"

Fred lifted her chin. She stalked forward, no hesitation or fear in her steps. "I ruled this world before the first of you kind was shaped. True demons, not the desperate shadows of which you claim lordship, cowered before me in terror and adoration, worshiping me," Fred ground out in a monotone voice, a sneer twisting her mouth.

Before their eyes, her appearance seemed to melt, hair and skin fading to a pale blue while her clothing transformed into leathery body armor. She stopped in front of the demon.

"What are you?" Dean asked.

"I am Illyria, God King of the Primordium," she announced, head raised proudly.

The demon's eyes widened in shock, before they narrowed.

"Well, now, maybe you were. But now you're just a has-been trapped in over-cooked meat, weak," the demon said, its taunts at odds with the way it was slowly backing away from her.

Illyria cocked her head to the side, observing the demon with almost clinical detachment. "I am diminished in this shell, but I still carry far more power than your pathetic kind. Unlike you, I cannot be banished by the mere religious bleating of a human."

"'Bleating?' Dude, did she just compare us to sheep?" Dean demanded.

"Hey, it's better than what she usually calls us," Connor said with a shrug.

Sam just stared, his gaze jumping from his suddenly super-strong, sword-wielding boyfriend to their apparently demon-god neighbor, watching in stunned quiet. How in the hell had missed this? He was drawn out of his internal freak-out by Illyria's movement.

Illyria struck quickly, placing her hand on the demon's chest. Her fingers dug into the flesh over the demon's heart and blood began to drip down its shirt. With her other hand, she ripped the knife out of the demon's shoulder, a large piece of the surrounding flesh tearing out with the blade.

"What the hell?" Dean yelled.

The demon grinned and opened its mouth, but before it could flee, Illyria dropped the knife and slanted her mouth over the demon's in a strange parody of a kiss. The demon’s black essence surged out against her mouth, but a blue mist began to flow out of her, forcing the demon back down inside of its host. The blue mist continued pushing inside of the demon, pushing down and into the demon's body. Sam and Dean could only watch in horror as the yellow of the demon's eyes faded, its body shaking as it let out a muffled scream.

Illyria moved her head away form his and the blue mist flowed back into her. The demon's black essence flowed out and again tried to flee, but it was now entwined and trapped by thin lines of blue that crossed back and forth over the demon's essence, stretching the black smoke between their mouths. A low rumble started deep within Illyria's chest, and a dark blue light shot out of Illyria's mouth and traveled traveled out toward the demon. A high pitched shriek sounded, and the demon's essence burned away in blue flames, the body glowing blue as it was burned from the inside out. Illyria inhaled, pulling the last of the blue mist into herself before closing her mouth and dropping the demon's body.

"Pathetic. A demonic essence is as easily destroyed as a soul." Illyria turned and faced Connor. "Are you injured?"

Connor studied her for a short time, then sighed. "What did you take?"

"Take?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, she always takes trophies. Since she hasn't tried to cut the head off of the body, she must have taken something from the demon."

Illyria cocked her head to the side, then lifted her hand. The demon's dead host was raised into the air before she lowered her hand, dropping the body. She then waved her hand and a ball of fire shot out, engulfing it in flames. Within moments, the corpse had been reduced to ash.

"This weekend just keeps on getting freakier and freakier," Dean muttered. "Okay, I've got questions and you'd better have answers."

"Said the pot to kettle," Connor said. He looked over at Sam, who looked confused and hurt. "Yeah, fine, we need to talk. But we should probably head inside first."

The group moved quickly, and once in the apartment, Sam dropped onto the couch, his face still slack with shock. Illyria stood at the door, practically at parade rest, while Connor dropped into the desk chair.

Dean paced, dragging his hands down his face before speaking. "First of all, even if Ol' Yellow Eyes hadn't said something, most people can't fall out a third story window like it's no big deal. Add in the fact that he just happened to have a knife to nail a demon into its host? I don't know what you are, man, but you sure as hell ain't normal," Dean pointed out. "And don't even get me started on Illfredia over there."

"You will address me by my proper title," Illyria commanded, turning that eerie blue gaze on Dean.

Connor rolled his eyes. "I'm human, really. I just have vampires for parents, so I heal like them, and I have their strength and speed. It gives me extra supernatural protections, you could say. When the demon tried to use telekinesis on me, it didn't work. But I have a soul and I age. I'm just human plus," he explained, eying Sam nervously.

"I have questions as well." Illyria's cold gaze ticked to Sam, her eyes penetrating. Sam wished she looked like Fred again. "The demon knew of you, but not of Connor. Thus while Connor was the target, the attack was obviously a strike against you. Explain."

Sam glanced at his brother.

Dean threw his hands in the air. "Fuck, I don't know, Sammy. I mean, yeah, they know about demons and stuff, but hell, I just don't know. It's up to you."

Sam looked down at his hands and took a deep breath. In his mind, he reviewed everything he knew, everything he'd seen, before finally deciding. "It killed my Mom when I was a baby, and our Dad has been hunting it ever since. He raised us as hunters, moving from town to town, hunting until I left for school. But I don't know why it came here; it's been over twenty years since Mom. I guess it just wanted revenge against Dad or something, I don't know," Sam answered. "I'm so sorry, Con."

Connor frowned, shaking his head. "Don't tell me you knew that thing was coming after me?"

"Not . . . exactly. I had a dream where he," Sam paused, squeezing his eyes shut as the images of Connor dying flashed through his mind. "I had a dream where he killed you, burned you alive, but I just thought it was a dream; a nightmare."

Connor stared. "A nightmare. You have prophetic dreams a lot?"

Sam shook his head. "First time."

Connor sighed deeply. "Fuck, we'll deal with that later. I'm not sure what think of that, but all the crazy shit I've been hiding from you." Connor trailed off with a shrug.

"Wait, you're not hiding anything else, are you?" Dean chimed in, falling silent when three people turned to glare at him

Then Sam looked back at Connor, whose eyes had suddenly dropped to the floor. "You're mad at me about the secrets I've kept and there's more you haven't told me?"  
"I was raised in a hell dimension, came back kind of psychotic, tried to kill my birth-father, had my memories erased so I could have a normal life, and my closest friend is an ancient demon god who swore an oath to watch over me." Connor winced, suddenly realizing how large his glass house was compared to Sam's. "Just, well, we've both been lying our asses off, so I really don't think we should be playing the who's-the-bigger-liar game," Connor finished in an anxious rush.

"Well there's no need to play when it's obvious who the winner's gonna be. Hunter childhood versus a demon god best friend, wiped memories and vampire parents? No contest, man." This time, only Connor glared at Dean, who grinned right back. "But I will admit, Sammy; your boy's a badass. I guess this really does make you the girl in the relationship."

"Oh, shut up, Dean." Sam clasped his hands together, twisting his fingers until they were white. The two lovers looked at each other, neither one moving, both of them guilty. Sam didn't know if their relationship could be salvaged, if they could move past all of the lies. But God, he loved Connor, loved his smile, his lips, his laugh, his sense of humor....

"Cease your pathetic posturing," Illyria finally said. "Your bodies warm for one another, so leave my sight and copulate."

"I second that. Not the sex part, but you guys are obviously stupid for each other. And now you've get everything out in the open, so stop with the shy guy acts and kiss and make up," Dean added gruffly, a little uncomfortable. There were some things no big brother wanted to know about or discuss.

Sam blushed before standing and slowly moving closer, eyebrows raised hopefully. Connor visibly relaxed. He stood and met Sam in the middle of their living room.

Reaching out, Sam cupped Connor's face and pulled him close with a gentle kiss. Connor tossed his sword onto the couch, then wrapped one arm around Sam's waist, the other gripping Sam's shoulder as they deepened the kiss. With a soft moan, Sam gripped Connor's hips and pulled their bodies closer together.

Dean cleared his throat. It only served to make Illyria notice him again, and did nothing to stop the man-on-man grope-session.

"Okay, then! I'm gonna go get a hotel room. You guys have fun, and don't forget to choose a safe-word."

"Dean - get out," Sam broke the kiss to order. Connor didn't say anything, merely pulled firmly on Sam's hand and dragged him into the bedroom.

Illyria watched them leave the room, then turned and exited the apartment, Dean following.

Once in the hallway, she turned to face him.

"You, brother of Samuel; your form is no longer warm for my shell as it was on our first meeting." She cocked her head to the side again. "Why is that?"

Dean stared back at her. "First of all, sweetheart, it's Dean. And the truth? You scare my penis."

"Irrelevant. Samuel has mentioned your prowess, and I find myself desiring sexual congress after battle."

"Excuse me?"

"You shall copulate with me," she declared, her armor disappearing and baring her blue-tinged flesh.

Dean stared, eyes riveted to the nude form before him.

"Okay, but only if you go back to not looking so... freaky."

Illyria shifted back to her normal form, sans clothing, and lifted her chin.

"Your terms are acceptable."

THE END.  



End file.
